


Gev, pel'ade!

by Bass0w0n, TexWash



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: CC-3636 | Wolffe Needs A Hug, Comet is a Bastard, Cuddling & Snuggling, Gen, M/M, OR IS IT, Platonic Cuddling, so Plo Koon gives him one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:09:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28201395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bass0w0n/pseuds/Bass0w0n, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TexWash/pseuds/TexWash
Summary: After the first Battel of Flucia Plo Koon and some of his men take a much-needed break, but Wolffe is stubborn.Can be read as ship or Platonic.
Relationships: Plo Koon & CC-3636 | Wolffe, Plo Koon & Clone Troopers, Plo Koon/CC-3636 | Wolffe
Comments: 11
Kudos: 65





	Gev, pel'ade!

**Author's Note:**

> The First Battle of Felucia was right after the Battle of Khorm (yes I know I said Hoth last time, I was mixed up with a Rebels thing.) This can be read as an accompaniment to A Chill that Eats your Soul or as a solo.  
> This fic is 100% Bassoon's fault, and I regret nothing :)

Jedi Master Plo Koon, second of three in his bloodline to be gifted with the Force, Master of his environment, gifted with the power of lightning, High General of the Grand Army of the Republic; was buried in a pile of Clone Troopers. It had been a very taxing few months that even had a handful of softshells taking up arms, for this particularly rough deployment. The Pack was resting in their Den: a place that on the logs is labeled as Plo Koon’s office, but it’s his space so if his men needed a place to relax he certainly wouldn’t stop them. 

All of his Pack was clustered inside the room, mostly on top of the poor General, not that he was complaining. Lieutenant Sinker had his entire body physically wrapped around Plo Koon’s left arm and was currently using his shoulder as a sort-of headrest. Lieutenant Boost, on the other hand, was somehow content leaning across both of them and covering them as though he were merely a throw blanket. Private Comet and Sargent Wildfire were sharing Plo Koon’s lap, with Wildfire clinging onto Comet like he was a lifeline. Warthog and a few other pilots also had invitations, but unfortunately, they were stuck helping the mechanics fix the ships they wrecked upon the last engagement. And his Wolffe, his dear Havekla, was sitting across the room, at one of the many desks littered throughout the small room, disassembling and cleaning the same blaster for the past hour. Even if the Jedi wasn’t familiar with the proper upkeep of blasters, he’s seen Wolffe do his ritual enough to know that it only takes about 15 minutes at most.

Wolffe’s posture was tense and ready, as though they were still on Felucia. Waiting for the Droid Army to happen upon their camp. His Commander wasn’t often one for casual touch or most sorts of physical comforts, at least not with his General. Of all his men, Plo Koon considered himself closest to Wolffe. Maybe it was because of the chain of Command that prevented his Commander from seeking comfort, even though he clearly seemed to want it, in the force. Wolffe didn’t think he had noticed all the times his Commander had reached out just to pull back at the last second.

There was an opening on his right shoulder if Wolffe wanted it, and Comet probably wouldn’t wake up and object to Plo moving his hand out from the loose curls of the younger Trooper’s hair. Now there was only to convince him. Even if his Commander was unusually good at shielding, General Koon could still feel the exhaustion emanating from his mind. Hopefully, his Wolffe wouldn’t be too stubborn this time.

Speaking softly to not stir the men already on him, Plo began his sales-pitch, “Wolffe, I believe that blaster is about as clean as it can be, why don’t you join us.” Of course, it wasn’t going to be that easy, he is Havekla for a reason, but Plo can feel the way his mind evaluates the question in the same fashion one would evaluate a battlefield. He _wants_ to join them. Wolffe’s mind tries to ensnare the want and drown it in the depths but it drags itself to the surface with soft ideas of comfort, but he never acts on it.

“I’m fine where I am, Sir, thank you for the offer.” It’s almost depressing how horrible Wolffe feels after saying that, his mind swirling like a whirlpool trying to suck down the disappointment. How long does his Commander plan on maintaining this facade?

“Wolffe, please, you don’t have to hold yourself at a distance. I believe we’re beyond that point, by now.” Oh, that gets a reaction. Wolffe shifts in his seat, his mind suddenly bubbling with nerves and, hope? Plo Koon isn’t sure what he said garnered this mix of emotions, but it isn’t his place to pry. Especially now that he’s gotten what he wished.

Wolffe, leaving behind the now shining blaster, makes his way over to the pile, still unsure, but he does take his seat next to Plo when he lifts his arm in invitation. His Commander is completely rigid at his side, barely even brushing against him, _now that just wouldn’t do_.

Placing a clawed hand on Wolffe’s waist makes him jump, but he doesn’t pull away. He even lets Plo Koon drag him closer, now lying flush to his side. The mental activity from his Commander increases with the contact, mostly embarrassment but there was still something he was keeping down. It wasn’t his place to pry though, it was hard enough to get Wolffe to finally give in; he wouldn’t destroy his Commander’s trust like that.

“ _Havekla you need to relax._ ” Plo slides his hand up to ease Wolffe’s head onto his shoulder, which he allows without any resistance or hesitation. The amount of feedback increases when his Commander finally rests on his shoulder, a heady mixture of nerves, affection, and an overwhelming thought of _finally_.

Plo Koon reinforced his mental shields. As much as he would love to explore these thoughts and feelings, they aren't his to explore. For now, he would just have to enjoy the faint waves of comfort emanating from his Commander as he slipped into sleep much like his brothers.

###### 

“ _You have the holos right?_ ”

“ _Course I have the kriffing holos, I’ve already made copies too._ ”

“I would just like to state for the record that none of this was my idea and I've done absolutely no-”

_“Shut up, Wildfire, you're going to get us caught.”_

Wolffe slowly awoke from his, surprisingly, pleasant dreams to the sound of his men bitching. They were always bitching one way or another, and he wasn’t looking forward to finding out what the fuss was this time. Whoever he fell asleep on was comfortable, though, _and surprisingly warm_. He should probably get up, soon, and spare whatever poor trooper had become his pillow last night. But then again- 

“ _Kriff, he’s shifting._ ”

Wolffe turned further into this supremely warm body, making himself even more of a cozy suto-nest inside of the arm wrapped about him. There’s no harm in keeping them trapped a little longer. Curling his hands further into the soft heavy fabric beneath him, his brain making the small mental note of ‘not a trooper’ before drifting off once more. Ignoring the signature click of a holo-cam.

**Author's Note:**

> If I write even one more of these I'm just going to make a series out of them, maybe I'll call it _Sir, your Gay is showing_  
>  In order, it would be A Chill that Eats your Soul, The Lost Padawan, and then this.  
> This fic isn't Painted either, we do hope to get something out for that AU soon we have a few large fics we are working on so please be patient.  
> Wildfire is not an OC if you were confused, he was in Legends and helped the Rebel Alliance, you will be seeing more of him don't worry.
> 
> Mandoa:  
> Gev, pel'ade- Pack it in, Pups [lit- soft children]  
> Kel dor:  
> Havekla- The closest thing to a Wolf you can find on Dorian, they are actually domestic like a dog, function more like a horse, and tend to act more like bears in their actions and diet.


End file.
